“I’m not sure if I should be impressed or concerned,” Magnus said evenly. “For all I know, you might do the same thing to me.”
e chief considered this, he swirled the remaining amber-colored wine around in his glass. “Others have considered the same thing. I’m not sure I necessarily believe that. I believe the carved stone wheels found in Limeros and Paelsia point to clues of its location.”
“Perhaps,” King Gaius allowed. “But to have taken this land from King Corvin is to possess everything the land contains with unrestricted access to tear it apart in my search. To find even one crystal would mean endless magic—but to possess them all...”
The chief nodded, his eyes lighting with greed. “We could become gods. Yes, this is good. We will find them together, and we will split them down the middle—fifty-fifty.”
“You like that plan?”
“I like it very much.”
“You know, your people already consider you their god. Enough to pay you blood sacrifice and enough wine tax to support your comfortable lifestyle.” King Gaius leaned back in his chair. “They believe you’re a great sorcerer descended from the Watchers themselves who will soon rise up and deliver them all from squalor.”
The chief spread his hands. “Without my people I am nothing.”
“I have known you for some time now and I have yet to see a spark of this magic.”
A glimmer of unfriendliness moved over the chief’s face. “You haven’t known me that long. Perhaps one day I will show you my true power.”
Magnus watched his father carefully. There was something strange going on here that he wasn’t quite understanding, but he knew better than to speak. When the king had asked him to be a part of this dinner meeting and celebration, he’d specifically told Magnus that he was only there to observe and to learn.
“When do we begin our search for the Kindred?” the chief asked. Both his plate and wineglass now empty.
“I intend on beginning immediately,” the king replied.
“And which two elements do you wish to possess?”
“Two? I wish to possess all four.”
The chief frowned. “All four? How is that splitting things fifty-fifty?”
“It’s not.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I know. And that’s just...sad, really.” A smile stretched across the king’s face.
The chief stared at him for a moment, a drunken glaze in his eyes thanks to the two bottles of wine he’d drunk. Then he started to laugh. “You nearly had me. No, Gaius. I trust you to hold true to your word. We are like brothers after the blood sacrifice of your bastard. I don’t forget.”
“Neither do I.” The king’s smile held as he got to his feet and moved to the other side of the table. “Time for rest. Tomorrow is a bright new day. I’ve had enough of tents. We shall move into the castle. Much finer quarters there.”
He offered his hand to Chief Basilius, who still chuckled over their amusing exchange. He took the king’s hand and got to his feet, unsteadily. “A fine meal. Your cooks are to be commended.”
King Gaius watched him. “Show me some magic. Just a little. I feel I’ve earned this.”
The chief patted his belly. “Not tonight. I am too full for such displays.”
“Very well.” The king extended his hand again. “Good night, my friend.”
“Good night.” He clasped the king’s hand and shook it.
King Gaius pulled him closer. “I believed the stories. The ones of you being a sorcerer. I’ve seen enough magic not to doubt such tales until I have enough evidence to disprove it. I must admit, there was some fear. While I am a man of action, I don’t possess any magic of my own. Not yet.”
The chief’s brows drew together. “Are you calling me a liar?”
“Yes,” King Gaius said. “That’s exactly what I’m calling you.”
Taking the dagger he’d concealed in his other hand, King Gaius slashed the chief’s throat in one smooth, quick motion.